Lucid Dreams
by ScarlettandBabySloth
Summary: Post Hogwarts, Post War. Draco gets a surprising owl during the night and is utterly terrified at the prospect of its references. Harry wakes from odd dreams and gives comfort. Can we say FLANGST a little louder? Please?


_ i "Oh. I'm dreaming again."_

_Harry found it odd that he realized he was dreaming. It hardly ever happened that way. Only a couple other times in his life had he been aware of the fact that he had been dreaming. Excluding all Voldemort related dreams, of course. But this one was just freakishly weird. _

_Dream-Ron was dressed like a lumberjack. Holding back a laugh, he conceded that Ron definitely fit the part. How ever his subconscious had managed to figure out that Ron made a fair lumberjack, he had no idea. The red plaid flannel shirt, the dark overalls and the ruggish boots certainly made for quite a picture. Dream-Hermione clearly agreed, because she was suddenly there, holding a Muggle camera and snapping photos of Dream-Ron as he strutted back and forth swinging his large ax. _

"_Why are you a lumberjack?" Harry asked stupidly. Dream-Hermione glared at him as if he were insane. _

"_What?" he asked, shrugging. It had seemed to be a good question. _

"_You're a lumberjack, too, Harry!" Dream-Ron shouted reassuringly. Only then did Harry look down and see that he, too, was indeed dressed as a lumberjack. The red and green plaid shirt's irony was not lost on him as he wondered whether he truly was insane. _

"_Why am I dreaming this?!?!" /i _

Suddenly he wasn't anymore. His mind felt switched back on, or off maybe… he couldn't quite tell. Things were dark. He realized it was because his eyes were closed. He smiled… he was back in his own bed. Not that he had ever truly left it. His Egyptian cotton sheets and his down comforter were wrapped around him snugly and he felt warm and content. He heard the rustle of the wind through the open window, making the drapes fly open slowly, letting in a thick line of morning sunlight. Some loose paper on the dresser fluttered around, caught in the breeze. Morning sounds. Normal. But one sound was missing.

Draco normally snored a bit. It wasn't a bother to Harry at all. It was almost enigmatic after a while… it was the sound of his boyfriend beside him, sharing his bed. It was never having to go to bed lonely anymore, ever again for the rest of his life. It was his vow of complete loyalty to the one person in this world who had seen him for everything he truly was, and everything he wasn't… it was missed, at this moment.

A sharp scent suddenly took over his nostrils. Not a bad scent, just a little much for so very early in the morning. It smelled like Draco-shower. His damned Irish Spring soap. So strong. It was yet one more thing that he had adopted from Muggle culture. Harry strained his ears for the sound of running water, but heard nothing. Just the wind.

Then slight movement to the right of him. His eyes opened blearily, fighting against the light to get adjusted. He wondered why things were so hopelessly foggy, until he remembered that he didn't sleep with glasses on. But he was far too lazy to reach the short distance away on his nightstand to reach them. Instead his hand inched towards Draco's side of the bed, feeling for him. He expected to find Draco in his cotton pajama shirt, or shirtless even, but he did not expect the course fabric to assault his sense of touch. Draco was wearing a starchy dress shirt, and lying down atop the covers.

"Why did you take a shower?" Harry mumbled mid-yawn. "It can't be eight yet…"

Up close, Harry could see Draco better. Anything further away than Draco's head was a complete blur, but as long as he was face to face with him, he could see. And what he saw woke him right up.

"Draco? What is it?" Draco was completely tense. He was clearly wide awake, but had dark lines under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep the previous night, and his lips were a thin line. His arms were straight, not quite ram-rod, but nearly. He looked absolutely terrified.

"Mother owled me this morning." Draco spoke relatively calmly, in a low quiet voice. He seemed to realize the implications of his own words and he squeezed his eyes tightly. "Merlin…"

Harry immediately scooted closer, placing his hand delicately on Draco's shirt. He could feel his rapid heart beat. It felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.

"What did she say?" He asked worriedly, reflexively playing with a button. No response for several moments.

"S-She wants to, uh… meet me. For—you know. Lunch. Fuck, Harry…" His still closed eyes began to well up with tears but he seemed determined to keep them under control.

"Where has she been the past six years?" Harry tried hard not to sound demanding, but he struggled with this. He could not contemplate a parent abandoning their child completely of their own accord for so long. He could not forgive it. There must be answers. Something. A reason, no matter how unethical.

"Didn't say." Draco managed to hiss out, and with a shallow breath he slowly lost his composure. Harry had only seen Draco break down like this two times before. Once had been when he found out his Father had died two months after the end of the war. Killed himself. The other had been much less of a shock, but much more of a perfect moment. It was during 7th year, when Harry and Draco were still sneaking to the Astronomy Tower to meet in secret. It had become an almost nightly ritual, whether they happened to stay for two minutes, two hours, or all night, they longed for each other's presence in their daily lives. It was during a heated kiss that Harry had lost all concept of himself, and he had breathlessly pulled away and told Draco that he was in love with him. Had been for the longest time. Maybe he always had been. It was then that Draco had broken down, weeping wonder and shock and thankfulness into Harry's shoulder.

"Draco, Draco… Shhh…" Harry tried to coo reassuringly, but he always felt completely irrational. Times of action he was suited for, and times of joy he relished and appreciated. In times of sorrow, he had never quite grown accustomed to the deep sadness inspired by it and had never particularly wished for any of it. He wished only happiness for Draco and could barely stand seeing the one he loved in such pain.

He gathered the shaking boy into his arms, sitting up slightly against the headboard. He stroked his back and cradled him in silence for a few moments, before his tears subsided slightly. Ignoring the scratchy material of Draco's dress shirt against his bare skin, he pulled him tighter in the embrace, resting his cheek against the blond head below him.

"I suppose you'll tell me I shouldn't go." Draco said so lightly that Harry strained to catch the last of it as it faded into a whisper.

"I'd never tell you not to see your own Mother." Harry said truthfully, though slightly guardedly. Of course he wouldn't be pushing for the idea, but he could hardly stop him. It wasn't his place. Not at all.

"I just don't know what I should do." Draco whispered into Harry's neck. A shiver went down Harry's spine as he felt Draco's feather light breath against his neck. Immediately he flushed with guilty embarrassment. This was totally _ i not /i _ the time for a good-morning fuck. Not… at ALL.

"You know that you owe her nothing. She deserted you when you needed her the most, Draco. If you don't want to see her, you don't have to."

"What if there is a damn good reason though? Something I never considered… I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't give her the chance to explain…"

Draco's arms were flung haphazardly around Harry, and without meaning to he moved one of them lower, the palm of his hand now moving small worried circles against the small of Harry's back. The touch felt so cool against his warm skin and all he could think about was… _ i NO. Absolutely NOT, Harry Potter. You jackass. /i _

"It's up to you, my love. I'll support your decision either way. And I'll be waiting for you when you get home, if you decide to go." He hadn't meant to sound seductive and husky. He honestly hadn't. But Draco didn't seem to notice. Much like he hadn't noticed Harry's boxers. Harry wanted to punch himself in the face. He was glad that Draco was facing down so that he wouldn't see the furious blush in his cheeks.

"Thanks, Harry." Draco smiled against Harry's chest, and although Harry couldn't see it he could feel it, and he was immensely glad that there wasn't another onslaught of tears brewing instead.

"I know I'll go. I couldn't i _not_ /i go… you know? This is just… such a… never expected it. I want to get it over with." Draco mumbled, finally looking up. "Do I look okay?" His spread his arms wide, half-heartedly attempting a genuine smile at Harry through his weary, bloodshot eyes, and Harry i _oofed /i _ at the extra pressure suddenly bearing down on him. It didn't make things any better for his… present condition.

He examined Draco, noting his finely sculpted hair. It had been so long since Draco had slicked his hair back like that, and although he appreciated the look and feel of his flowing tresses most of the time, he found he definitely missed the sculpted look he only reserved for special occasions. The richly dark burgundy colored dress shirt contrasted with his pale skin in a completely flattering way. Then again, his Draco looked completely natural and refined in almost anything, whereas Harry felt like a… well… a galumphing lumberjack, most of the time. Damn dream.

"You look perfect. Absolutely stunning," Harry whispered, although he wasn't sure why he was whispering. He wasn't trying to be seductive again, was he? Quite suddenly Draco had rushed forward, meeting Harry's lips softly. The kiss was delicate, full of thanks for the praise on Draco's part, and full of reservations on Harry's. He knew this was just a kiss… this could not…WOULD not… be leading to other things. Not just now.

"I was just waiting for you to wake up." Draco whispered softly as he ended the kiss, not moving his face away from Harry's, or drawing his eyes away. "I've made you breakfast. Just needs a quick warming charm."

"Wow. You really went all out, didn't you?" Harry began helping himself to pancakes and scrambled eggs. Draco, seated across from him, only shrugged, not feeling particularly hungry.

"Damn owl nearly scared the shit out of me, landing on me in the middle of the night. I was jittery. Had to do something. So I went on a cooking frenzy."

"I'm proud of you. You made everything the Muggle way. It's really good." Harry spoke around a mouthful of toast. As he swallowed, he realized that Draco wasn't really listening. He was staring down at the floor at something unseen, apparently lost in thought. Harry put his fork down gently and wiped his mouth on his napkin.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked calmly. Draco looked up slowly and seemed to shiver, even though it was quite warm in the kitchen.

"She knows about us."

Just a statement. It didn't even leave room for question. Harry understood.

"I'm sure she does." These days, their relationship was a far cry from their stolen nights within Hogwart's walls. As soon as the war had ended, and Draco's loyalties revealed, and his close working relationship with Harry Potter had been made known world wide, speculation had started. It had started out as rumors, but eventually Harry and Draco wanted the world to know the truth. There wasn't a witch or wizard who didn't know about them now… and for the most part, they were respected and treated with honor.

"I… I really think that the fact of us might be what… might be why she hasn't… contacted me." Draco began warily, looking up into Harry's face with a grim expression.

"But now she has." Harry pointed out.

"Yes. But she's Narcissa Malfoy."

"And?"

" i _And/i "_ Draco asked sardonically. But his scowl quickly fell, to be replaced by a miserable frown. "All my life, she's just been so… I can't even explain it to you. Around the house, you know… Father was hardly ever there. So i she /i made the rules, Harry. She was like this… this never-ending, continuous strength. Always dictating, in charge, unwavering, unfeeling… like a damn Muggle God."

He paused to catch his breath, to keep himself from losing control again. Harry reached over the breakfast plates and took his hand, waiting for him to continue.

"She always knows exactly what she thinks about things. She never changes her mind. She'd simply never approve of… even if I am her s-….son… fuck…" Draco sniffed heavily, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts from the direction they were taking.

"She doesn't have feelings, Harry. She doesn't know how to understand… or forgive."

Harry's heart felt heavy and tears swam in his own eyes, but to give in would be to let Draco down. He needed to be strong for him now. He needed to fix this, although he knew he couldn't completely mend things, he could make Draco feel better, if only in this moment.

"Seriously, gods have feelings too, you know." Harry tilted his head as Draco looked up suddenly in question. "If she didn't feel something, Draco, you never would have heard from her."

Draco pondered this for a moment or two, before his head fell down and he shrugged again. "I suppose." He gripped Harry's hand tighter. "I'll see."

"Now, the weatherman in the paper said it's supposed to rain this afternoon… are you hearing me, Draco? Wait… don't leave without this!"

A couple of hours later found Harry and Draco standing facing each other in the doorway, Harry just inside the house and Draco just outside. Harry was forcing Draco to accept the umbrella in his outstretched hand.

"Believe me, you'll thank me later! You know, when your perfect hair is ruined by the rain and the wind…" Harry winked, then berated himself. He was being flirty because he was horny, and that wasn't nice. But Draco smiled, shaking his head lightly from side to side.

"I appreciate you looking out for my general good looks, Potter."

"Potter? What's this?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head in mock indignation. In one step he brought his arms around Draco and he stared into his eyes questioningly. He usually only called him by his surname in… well, in bed.

"It's your last name, you prat."

"So I've heard…" Harry began. "Why…"

Draco cut him off with a kiss, much different than the one shared in bed that morning. It was passionate, hard, full of pent up emotions. Draco had him pushed up against the wall in the foyer before he realized what he had started. Harry laughed lightly when Draco slowly pulled his mouth away, a bit confused. Harry laughed, but he could hardly hide his excitement. He gave one last firm squeeze of Draco's ass before he held him away at arms length. His excitement was… plainly obvious, but he chose to ignore it.

"Go on. You'll be late."

"Oh shit, Harry…" Draco's demeanor suddenly changed from advancing lover to scared little child. He waved away Harry's hands that were holding him at length, and he reunited with Harry again, this time in a whole new way. Seeking comfort. Protection. Strength.

"You'll be fine. No matter what happens. Left alone is something you'll never be. I'm here."

"It's not just that…"

"What then?"

"I just can't… I can't face Mum with a boner."

Harry tried his hardest not to burst out laughing as he realized that Draco was dead serious. "Save it for later."

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

"On your way there, just picture… Hagrid. And Madame Maxime. I'm sure that will quench the fire out of you…" In fact Harry felt it leaving himself, as well.

" i Eeuugh/i " Draco pulled away and stared in utter revulsion. "Well… thanks for that, I suppose."

"Anytime. I love you, you know."

Just like every time Harry said it, Draco froze and seemed to light up from the inside. His facial features relaxed, losing all their pent up anxiety. His eyes sparkled, which automatically caused Harry's heart to flip. Harry was forever grateful and humbled that that spark was still there, as he knew it always would be.

"I know. And I love you." Draco kissed him once more, this time small and unhurried and graceful. "I'll be home. Very soon. i Potter. /i "

He backed up slowly, smiling secretly, and Harry leaned against the doorframe, arms folding. Merlin, when Draco got home… he just hoped he could stop himself from wanking before then. But on second thought, he knew he could. He could in respect of where Draco would be and what he would be going through. He'd do it for him. He'd be here, ready and waiting for him, (in more ways than one), when he got home.


End file.
